a tale of two sisters

Lau is my little sister. We are sixteen months apart (almost twins, but not quite). 

I loved her from the very beginning. She wasn't as convinced. 

Though I'm the eldest, she was always the mature one. I sometimes succeeded in making her stoop down to my level. 

Yes, that's underwear on our heads. Probably my idea. 

When I think back to my childhood, I think of Lau. We grew up doing everything together.

 I remember riding our bikes to the local pool, seeing who could swing higher at the park around the corner, collecting dolls and setting up lemonade stands, giggling late into the night in our shared bedroom. 

We fought here and there over toys and clothes (the latter hasn't changed), but hastily made up. 

We enjoyed countless road trips, church picnics and library runs. It was a blessed childhood. Our family did not have a lavish lifestyle by any means, but life was exciting and alluring in its pure simplicity. 

We grew closer in our teenage years. As children we had learned to play together. As young teens, we learned to talk together. I came to have a deep respect for Lau, her interests and her passions. We talked and talked about our insecurities, our faith and our dreams. 

I choose by principle not to post pictures of myself between the ages of thirteen and sixteen (hello, awkward phase). We're talking snarly side bangs, too much mascara and a whole lot of metal in my mouth. You get the idea. Lau and I navigated that season of life together, accepting each other’s quirks fully (but also kindly telling the other person when their outfit was a reaaal bad idea).  

We are wildly different in interests and personalities. 

She always excelled in science; I was a lover of words.

Lau is rational and introspective; I am indecisive and extraverted. 

While she studies a room of people before asserting herself, I am pretty much loud all the time (obnoxiously so, sometimes). 

Lau likes sweet food; I’m all about the savory. 

She is passionate about health and the environment; I am passionate about social justice and languages.

Our relationship never suffered from our differences. We balance each other well, and relate in many areas too, including God, cafés, travel, sushi.

 

In Cambodia, May 2017. 

A few months ago, Lau had asked me, "What is something you've always wanted to do but were too scared to try?" 

She was probably expecting me to answer something like bungee jumping or go backpacking in the Himalayas. 

Instead, I answered, "Start a blog." 

She's been pressuring me ever since to do just that. 

And yesterday, Lau left for Paris where she will be studying theology and doing internships in environmental conservation for nine months. 

And I don't quite know how I will cope.  

Giving Lau allll the love before she left for Paris yesterday.

A couple hours after bringing her to the airport, I felt the urge to just do it. Start the blog. 

Deep down, I felt as though blogging would distract me from the fact that Lau isn't here.  

I'm going to miss her sassy demeanour, her passionate stances on just about everything. I'll miss our chats about the mundane and the celestial. I'll miss meeting up downtown, somewhere between our two campuses. I'll miss our jogs (not the jogging part, but the being together component). I'll miss evenings where she teaches me recipes and we watch Netflix together or listen to good music as we do our homework. 

Though I am so excited for her, I am also really, really sad. 

So I guess that's the state I'm in as I begin this blogging thing. I felt it wouldn't make much sense not to share that from the beginning.